The Monster's Angel
by Judge the Worthy
Summary: A series of one shots dedicated to Darth Vader and his memories of Padme.
1. Voice of an Angel

**_This will be the first of a small series of one-shots I'll be periodically adding as time permits. Please enjoy. - Belzigzimr Zirkalda._**

**Voice of an Angel**

Sometimes, in the rare moments of quite, he hears her voice. In the solitude of his cockpit, or the isolation of the hyperbaric chamber. Each time, he ignores it. He refuses to acknowledge the voice of his dead wife. Each time, it gets harder. Her words echo in the dark recesses of his mind, locked behind the helmet.

_"Anakin."_

The words and sound of her voice change every time. Every time, her voice grows weaker. Every time, he hates himself anew.

_"It's only because I'm so in love."_

Sometimes, her whispers are a comfort, soothing him after particularly hard days when nothing goes right. Other times, he hears the horror she felt when she learned of his deeds, her despair as she died, and with her, their child.

_"When there was nothing but our love."_

For a while, a part of him had refused to accept what had happened. She could never be afraid of him. She loved him, and he her. She was an angel, and angels forgave the sinners.

_"I truly, deeply, love you."_

Now, he pities and hates his former naivety. Nothing is stronger than fear, not even love. He should know. Fear lead him to killing his own wife.

_"You've changed."_

This time, her voice is just a whisper inside his head. He doesn't have the will or need to resist it. Not anymore. Today, her words bring him no solace. They cut him deep, remind him of the blood on his hands, and how nothing will wash them clean.

_"You're going down a path I can't follow."_

It drives him mad, and once more he wishes for death. Any form of escape from the sweet voice that haunts him.

_"Stop!"_

A part of him, the guilt and self-loathing buried and hidden beneath layers of rage, demands that he receive no rest. Not even in sleep. Every crime, every death he inflicted and administered will not be forgiven, no matter how much he curses the cruelty of the Force or begs for its mercy.

_"Stop now!"_

He knows that he will never find her in the next life, if such a thing ever existed to begin with. He knows that the Force will never relieve him, so he embraces the pain.

_"Come back!"_

Her voice continues to echo around him, and he worries for his sanity.

_"I love you."_


	2. Dreams of an Angel

**Dreams of an Angel**

It's been years since Darth Vader has had what he would call a "good dream". So he knew, immediately, that whatever this was, this was more than a dream. This was the Force at work. Or the will and design of his master. He had trouble trying to tell them apart these days.

He was standing in a meadow: grass green, sky blue, and clouds white. The air - He could _feel_ the air on his bare, unburnt skin - was crisp. Looking down, he saw that he wore the brown and leather robes that used to mark him as a Jedi. Light from the sun warmed him in ways it hadn't for a long, long time. The wind lightly picks up, and he feels hair move along his head and behind his ears. He almost swears he can hear waterfalls in the distance.

"Naboo", he whispers to himself.

"Ani", came a familiarly sweet voice. He turned around to find Padme smiling brightly at him, wearing a yellow sundress with her hair in buns.

"How is this possible?" he asks, because he knows that this isn't reality, and there's no way it's his imagination constructing this dream.

"You know," she says, eyeing him carefully, still smiling. "It's hard to believe that my husband is dead when _that's_ what he wants to look like."

A twitch in his hand is restrained, and Vader idly notes that his left hand is once more flesh, blood, and bone.

"Believe what you will. Your husband is dead. As are you," he says.

She takes slow, coy steps towards him, that damned smile still warm, pleasant, and inviting.

"You could never kill me, Ani. Not that I appreciate being choked, mind you."

"You are dead," he says, squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms across his chest. "I did it once. I will not hesitate this time."

She laughs. It's a beautiful, melodious sound. "I love you too, Anakin."

Off put by her sudden joy, Vader almost calls her mad. He wants to say that she's a foolish dreamer. But he's too shocked to respond. He tries to strangle the urge to join her in laughter, to pretend that it was all just a bad dream. Before he can call on his anger, his hate, she's come closer, though he didn't actually see her move. Now, she's reaching out to softly touch him and, by the Force, he can't bring himself to deny her. A sensation runs through him that no Dark Lord of the Sith should allow themself to feel.

"Is it wrong for me to be happy, knowing that you're still alive?" she asks him as she traces along the line of his jaw.

"Yes," he rasps out, leaning into the warmth of her soft hand. He inwardly curses himself for his weakness as the body he doesn't actually have relaxes at her touch.

She comes even closer. He closes his eyes and shivers. "What do you want from me? Why are you here?" he asks.

"I just wanted to see you," she says, sliding her arms around him and pressing her cheek against his chest. He can feel the beating of her heart, even through the fabric of her dress and the thickness of his tunic. "I missed you."

His body betrays him as it returns the embrace, more fiercely than should be appropriate. "You turned against me," he snarls, even as he holds her tight.

She's trembling now. "I know. But I still love you."

She had said something similar on Mustafar, and she'd suffered for her betrayal. Here, though, he's no longer sure if killing her is possible.

"I will ask again. Why are you here?" He knows she won't bring him comfort. She certainly won't bring him any peace.

He can feel her smirk, even if he can't see it. "It means I still love you, whether you deserve it or not, Ani." Her hands trace patterns up and down his back, offering comfort and familiarity.

"Even if I killed you?"

She pulls away from him, and he has to stop himself from pulling her back.

Then, she kisses him.

Oh, by the Force is it good. All of her feelings are there, sorrow, longing, disappointment. But it's her love that he feels most. It's not enough, and too much all at once. He can feel it tearing away at the cold walls he's methodically built in his mind over the years.

He pulls her off of him, panting harshly. "Leave me alone!" he shouts, clutching her by the arms even as he's shaking pathetically from a mere kiss.

This time, he can see her smirk. "If that's what you want, Anakin."

The illusion begins to crumble around him, and the woman in his arms turns into dust.

"No! Wait!"

His eyes snap open to a world that is black, cold, metal, and grey.

"Padme," he whispers to himself.


	3. Promise to an Angel

**Promise to an Angel**

The echo of heavy, metallic footsteps bounced off the walls of the Executor's dark corridors. Lord Vader moved swiftly through the halls, surrounded in the dark cloak of his all black armor. The only other sound was the heavy, synthetic breath of his respirator.

The day shift had rotated out hours ago, leaving only a skeleton crew - the night shift - to manage the Super Star Destroyer. Vader actively avoided the crew. This arrangement suited them just fine. Each member of the crew counted themselves lucky if they never came face-to-face with the Emperor's right hand since they knew that, thanks to the helmet, they had no kriffing idea whether he was even looking at them or not.

The world looked red to his eyes, a result of the lens built within the mask that artificially sustained his sight.

The man inside the machine knew he should turn in, but sleep was currently beyond his reach. He had hoped that the physical activity would distract him from the uncomfortable thoughts forming inside his head. He focused on moving each heavy cybernetic leg in front of the other, a task that was only becoming harder as the years progressed.

The machine that sustained his breathing pumped faster as he continued to walk. Each breath sent pain throughout his body, but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt in the company of his thoughts. For a moment, he remembered a time when he could breathe air directly into functional lungs.

After what seemed like hours of the endless walking, Vader felt comfortable in his exhaustion. He retired to his hyperbaric chamber, the one place he could safely surrender to sleep. The aged man sat heavily within the sphere.

_I try not to think of you,_ Vader spoke in his mind. _But it is impossible._

His thoughts wandered as he sat alone. They lingered on his youth first.

Even when he was a young boy on Tatooine, he knew that he was destined to lead a great life, one of purpose, as a free man. Now, aboard the lonely ship, he realized he had done just that. If only he could have freed his mother. Maybe then he would have made it. There were many promises he had broken in his life, but one of the worst was the promise he gave to her. The Jedi had forbidden him from returning. He wasn't strong enough to keep her from death. The young boy began collapsing from within when he found her broken body, and it was Padmé who kept him stable.

Padmé. His time with her had been far too short. He remembered the dusty arena on Geonosis, the place they first confessed their love for one another. Padmé had been targeted for death only moments later, and the young boy had feared it would be the end of her. Even then, so long ago, the thought of losing her tore him apart. It was unfathomable. After all, how is one expected to live without a soul?

The day he married her was the first time he ever felt like he was choosing his destiny. Everything up to that point had been focused on furthering his career as a Jedi. The moment he took Padmé as his wife was the moment he knew he was capable of more than just serving the Jedi. His life meant something, for Padmé loved him just as much as he loved her. He never imagined he could be happier than he was then.

_I am lost without you, Padmé. What can I do? I would do anything…_

Finding out he was to have a child with the woman who kept him living changed the boy forever. He vowed in that moment to never fail her and that child. She had saved him, gave him a reason to exist in the chaotic universe, and he swore he would do the same for them. There were things he had always wanted to say to that child, but never did he have the chance to look upon it with his own eyes. Another promise he had broken.

Vader attempted to halt his mind before it reached the place he vowed to never return, but he currently lacked the fortitude needed to do so.

The next memory was of rivers of molten lava below him, but he only saw her. The beautiful face of the one he cared for most was clouded with fear and despair.

_"Come back! I love you!"_

The young man was consumed and too far gone to truly hear the woman. He never told her that he loved her. Instead he left her dying on the ground, struck dead by his hand. He had believed that he was saving her, that he was keeping his promise. Instead he had destroyed the only thing he cared to live for. His actions broke her along with his promise. That was the day he ceased to live.

_"Anakin, you're breaking my heart."_

Vader let his head drop, overwhelmed by the past he wanted to forget. He never had the chance to hear her last words to the world. A part of him wondered if they were about him. He wondered if she even knew how much he still cared for her.

With difficulty, Vader quieted his mind and stared numbly into the blinding white of his sphere. It was rare that he let himself become this vulnerable. He found that suppressing the thoughts of Padmé made it easier to keep breathing for one more day. He couldn't help but think about how much easier it would be to breathe if he still had her in his arms.

_Do you still have that necklace I made you?_

He wished for nothing more than an answer, but he accepted that none would be heard. As the remaining hours of the dark neared dawn, Vader sunk into a restless sleep.


End file.
